


Steven Grant Rogers, zt"l

by qxzenith



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Holocaust Mention, Jewish Steve Rogers, implied jewish howard stark, vaguely implied steve/bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23795677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qxzenith/pseuds/qxzenith
Summary: Jewish Steve Rogers: a life in three parts
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Prelude: Baruch Atah Adonai, Mechayeh Ha'Meitim

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this due to a conversation with a friend (whom I will tag if it turns out they have an account here) about representation in media. Captain America was a character created by two Jews, modelled in a Jewish archetype (“little guy from Brooklyn”), and created to fulfill what was, at the time of his creation, largely a Jewish fantasy (punching Nazis in the early forties). The fact that he was established canonically as Irish Catholic (if I remember correctly) seems less a factor of authorial intent and more because they doubtless thought (and most likely correctly) that a Jewish superhero would not sell, and would not reach the audiences they wanted to reach. This fic reimagines him as the same guy, but also Jewish, and observant. Glossary and explanatory notes for the Hebrew and Jewish references are included as the final chapter.

**Steven Grant Rogers,** **zt”l** **: A life in three and a half parts**

**Prelude:** **_Baruch atah Adonai, mechayeh ha’meitim_** **.**

They had explained to him, of course, the science of how he was still alive, how his augmented body and the extreme low temperatures of his resting place in the Arctic had conspired to create a natural cryogenic effect, freezing his body in the state it was while preserving his life as he slept.

He understood - some of it, and he believed the rest, but still, he could not stop himself from thinking about Olam HaBa, from thinking _me’ayin l’t’chiyat ha’metim min ha’Torah_ , thinking _v’rabim m’y’sheinei admat afar yakitzu_ _,_ thinking _there is no reward for the righteous or punishment for the wicked in this world, only in the world to come_. In many real ways, this was, after all, his world to come.

There was a matzeiva for him. It took him some digging (not literally, thank goodness) to find out about it, and it took time for SHIELD to be convinced enough of his stable mental and physical health to let him go without a babysitter, and more time for him to make his way to Brooklyn unnoticed, but there it was, in the Jewish cemetery, right beside his parents’ graves. There was no body, of course, but he knew, already, that that was not uncommon, for those who had been lost in the war. And there it was, engraved in stone:

Steven Grant Rogers, z”l

שלום מתן רוג'רז

ת.נ.צ.ב.ה.

July 4, 1918 - 1945

כ"ז תמוז ה' תרע"ח - ה' תש"ה

Somehow, seeing his grave made all of this more real, rooted him in the reality of 2011 in a way that none of the pamphlets, books, or museum exhibits had managed to do. 

_May his soul be bound up in the bundle of life_. Perhaps it was that traditional prayer that had come true, that had bound him to life as he lay frozen in the Arctic. The thought made him smile. 

It was a simple stone, just his name and approximate dates and the typical caption, and he wondered how they had scrounged up the money to pay for it, and on whose initiative, with both his parents already gone and even Bucky already lost to him in the chill mountains. But then, that was what a Chevra Kadisha was for, wasn’t it? To give burial rites to the orphaned soldier boys, fallen a long way from home.

The air was crisp, and a little cold, this time of year, but that thought warmed him, too, to realize that even at the bottom of the Arctic, with everyone he loved already dead before him, he had been included, held close, by the holy community - to remember that he was still, after everything, a part of a holy community.


	2. 1: Peoplehood

**1:** **_Peoplehood_ **

This had been his fight. It was _his_ fight, it was personal in a way that most of his tussles with bullies were not. That was his response whenever Bucky gently tried to dissuade him from trying again, after being turned away from the enlistment office for the dozenth time, “Really, Stevie, they’re not going to change their mind, and there’s plenty good you can do from here, instead of trying to get sent to the front with bad lungs and a bad back and none of the common sense you shoulda been born with.” He would point out that this was _his_ fight, and there was nothing Bucky could say to that.

Because everyone knew what it was like for Jews in Germany in the thirties and forties. (No, they did not know, how could they know, they had _no idea_ , not by a mile, not by a hundred miles, and by the time they did, it was late, so late, and they would ask themselves, how could they not have known.) But they knew that it was bad, and getting worse, and Steve couldn’t - he couldn’t just let that stand.

So of course he was eager to fight, not just to fight but to fight _for_ something, and this was _his_ fight, _im ein ani li, mi li_? Of course he jumped at the opportunity, offered by Avraham Erskine, to be something greater than himself, to be truly able to help his people, help everyone, _im ani l’atzmi, mah ani_?

There was no hesitation when he heard that Bucky’s unit was taken, only the immediate need for action, and the action to match it, and _im lo achshav, eimatai?_

They’d been together, their Commandos, for a year before they heard about the camps - it was almost that long before _anyone_ heard about them, and then more time until the news trickled through army base to army base, reaching them when they returned from the field.

The thing about Bucky, a thing he loved about Bucky, was that he didn’t need to say it, to ask it. He returned to the tents, his stomach still churning and his mind reeling from the unthinkable images, the nauseating reports, and Sergeant Barnes was there, explaining that he had already spoken to their men, told them that this was something the Captain needed to do, and they with him, on no general’s orders, in much the same way as he had come for them.

When he had gone on his own for the 107th, against orders, he had returned to a commendation, and carte blanche to form his own team. When he came back from this, he received a reprimand, and grudging agreement to look the other way, just this once, and a warning not to do it again.

 _Of course_ , he thought, his mask a warm and ever-present reminder of the compromise it represented, in replacing the kipa he would normally have worn.

Of course they did it again - but not as often as any of them thought they should. They still had official missions to complete, important ones, that could not, should not, be neglected. And renegade rescue missions took time to arrange, and to plan; he couldn’t in good conscience lead his men in blind, so he had to rely on what information Peggy could drip to him, on where to find the next camp they would hit and what to expect there; and he had to wait for arrangements to be ready, usually visas or a plane or once, memorably, a boat, thanks to Howard, for getting the people to safety afterward, because these were not soldiers who could simply be reabsorbed into the nearest army base, and there was no use in rescuing them only to abandon them once more to the jaws of death.

And there were so many stragglers, each time - the very old, and the very young, and those simply too sick or too weak to flee unaided. And their ragged survivors needed Steve to translate and reassure them, needed every scrap of protection they could offer, until they reached whatever escape route Stark had magicked up, so that they could not send a soldier to go back and set charges and run out of range before detonation, which meant that they could not even blow the camps up when they left.

And there were so damn many of the camps.

When Steve made his descent, months later, into the Arctic, words of Torah rising unbidden to his lips, it was with a clear conscience, and only three regrets.

First: that he had promised Peggy a dance, and never delivered on it. Not that he desperately needed that dance, but he wanted to be a man who kept his word.

Second: that day with the train and the snow and the cliff. It had haunted him every day since, constantly revisiting it, asking himself what he should have done, how he could have done things differently, done things better, how he could change the outcome, so that he could stop Bucky from falling, could save him, could be the one to fall, instead.

Third: that there were so many camps that he had not gotten to, and so many that he had not gotten to in time. That he was only one man, and, with all his strengths and limitations, he had not prevented millions of his people’s lives from being snuffed out. This thought, especially, would stay with him when he awoke.


	3. 2: Ritual

**2:** **_Ritual_ **

The year is two thousand and eleven, and Steve Rogers wraps a set of 80-year-old tefillin on his arm and forehead - the same pair that he received for his Bar Mitzvah, back in a different time.

He had mixed feelings on getting them back, when Fury and Natasha took him to unlock an old SHIELD vault so that he could sift through and reclaim those of his belongings that had not already been snapped up by museums and heritage foundations.

Part of him was relieved to find them waiting for him, because it had sentimental value and because the thought had occurred to him, incongruously, that even in this new world’s economy, they would cost a lot of money to replace.

He was impressed that it was even still usable, almost as well-preserved as he was; apparently a sealed, oiled canister was for ritual items of leather and parchment what Arctic ice was for super-soldiers. It had knocked around at the bottom of his bag throughout the war, mostly unused, because a soldier could not be expected to keep his thoughts pure from distraction in wartime, and because, most mornings, there simply was no time. It was all he could do to say Brachot as he dressed, with maybe a rushed Amida afterward, without taking the time to painstakingly wind and unwind his tefillin.

He was a little guiltily thankful for the nondescript bag, in army khaki, that held them; no complicated questions from Fury as he leaned into the vault and slung it onto his shoulder, scooping up the rest of the dregs of his former life in a second, swift motion.

Mostly, though, there was a bitter sense of recognition. Every shred of what was left of him, after his plunge into the Arctic, had been picked and squabbled over by the government, by the museums, he had had to fight even to get Bucky’s dog tags back, which rightfully should have been sent straight to his sister, but this - this lay pristine and forgotten at the bottom of a vault.

And why not? he thought bitterly. Without it, he was the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, all-American hero. And oh, he had seen and seethed at the encyclopedia articles, the exhibit captions about him, _Steven Grant Rogers, born to European immigrants_ … “European immigrants,” when they - and he - would have been beaten up by the _real_ Europeans for claiming the name for themselves, as though they would have abandoned their identities wilfully like that. _Rogers’ father, who changed the name from the Russian Ruzhgies…_ and no, that wasn’t right either; it was from Yiddish, from Roiskies, but heaven forbid they say that of Captain America, better to imply a nonexistent Russian origin than to let him be a Jew.

A wave of outrage, of fury, rushed through him, that this important part of his identity had been swept under the rug for seventy years, denied, ignored, locked away like it was America’s dirty little secret. 

He wondered if any of the biographers had found their way to the little matzeivah in Brooklyn, beside the stones for Sarah and Joseph Rogers, with his Hebrew name and _of blessed memory_ _,_ and decided to leave that detail out of their work; or if there was a book out there that revealed the truth of him; or if no one but he had ever made it that far.

The year is two thousand and eleven, and Steve Rogers wraps strands of leather around his arm that are almost as old as he is. He is Captain America, and he has always stood for America, for freedom, for the power of the individual - and he does, still - but he has always stood, too, for the holy words written in ink on the scraps of parchment contained within the little black boxes whose fraying leather straps he winds around his arm, whispering prayers to himself, and for all that they represent to him. He thinks that, maybe, it is time to share that with the world.


	4. 3: Homeland

**3:** **_Homeland_ **

The Rogers household had never emphasized any particular need to visit, or live in, the Promised Land - but then, there was no State of Israel when Steve was growing up in the twenties and thirties.

Oh, that had been a fascinating few hours of research and reading, as he supplemented his catch-up course on everything he’d slept through. Nat and Sam were great, really, at filling him in on all sorts of pop culture and scientific advancements, but they didn’t know every facet of him yet, and there were some things which if he wanted to know about them (and he did), he would have to seek them out himself.

It was his private reading project, modern Jewish and Israeli history, and in reading about Israel, Steve felt invigorated. Motivated. Filled with purpose, for the first time in so long. America didn’t need him the way it had seventy years ago; he had been relegated to being a symbol, shunted off to dance attendance on politicians in costume, like back in his USO days. Here, though, was somewhere that he could make a difference; he could _do_ something, he could help people, he could…

...He could probably create an international incident, he realized, as the thought turned cold and soured, fracturing, perhaps permanently, the good terms of an allyship that had lasted for almost as long as he’d been frozen. And it would be the biggest Chillul Hashem, Captain America apparently defecting to fight for a foreign power; he would reinforce every nasty stereotype he’d come up against as a boy, particularly the doubt as to whether Jewish loyalties could ever be trusted.

He had chosen to become Captain America. It had fallen into his lap, a little, but he had chosen it; and he could only fight for another country if his government loaned him out, such as through the Avengers Initiative, or at least if the hearts of the American people were with him.

A visit, at least, he could manage, though by the time it came to fruition, that, too, had become another political sideshow, complete with presidential photo-op in front of the Kotel, Steve sweltering in full costume.

The president had a schedule to stick to, though, and Steve managed to stay longer, on his own, just a visitor walking the footsteps of his forefathers. Without the president glued to his side, he travelled out of costume; he wore a quiet button-down shirt and became practically invisible, and he bought - to his endless delight - a Captain America kipa. He wore it for the rest of the trip.

He visited holy sites, places of Biblical significance; he hiked in the North and dove deep, deep, deep in Eilat, because he could.

And he went to Yad VaShem, because he needed to see, needed to revisit this worst part of what he failed to fix during his war. He walked himself through the solemnity of it, through the images which were no less sickening with age, the stories that were somehow worse now that he knew the full extent of it.

But he ended his self-guided tour on a hopeful note, an uplifting note, because his feet took him to the wall dedicated to the Righteous Among the Nations, and he read through the lists and lists of names until he found a familiar set of nine names, beginning with _ג’יימס “בקי” ביוחנן ברנס_ and continuing through all of his commandos. There, staring at a stretch of wall that notably did not list his name, was where Steve had felt the most seen in over seventy years, because whoever wrote these names here had known very well who they were and what they had done, and they had done enough research to know, for once, that שלום מתן רוג’רז had no place on a list of those “Among the Nations.”

Before he left, he quietly found a curator who both recognized who he was and was not overly impressed by him, and asked her to add one more name to that particular part of the list. Peggy’s and Howard’s roles in their unsanctioned missions had, by necessity, been kept secret, but enough time had passed, Steve thought ruefully, because he was tired of bitterness, that it wouldn’t count as treason anymore. He wondered what Sharon would think about accepting this posthumous honour on behalf of her aunt. He wondered what Tony would think, about _not_ being called upon to accept it on behalf of his father, for the same reason that Steve had smiled not to see his own name on the list.

He left the monument to the dead he could not save, feeling if not uplifted, then at least satisfied with a job ably done, and he took himself for a run through the city, to shake off his last gloomy thoughts about the dead. He walked through David’s city all the way out to the ruins of Jehoiakim’s palace; from the Jewish Quarter to the site of an historic battle in 1948, history that he had slept through. He slowed to make his way through the shuk, buying impossibly cheap candies, dried fruits, nuts, pastries, falafel, to feed his superhuman body, as he fed his soul on the smells, the sights, the sounds of haggling and cheerful shouts - the scenes of his people, comfortable in their own skin, in their own home.

His return flight marked the first time he managed to sleep on an airplane since before he went down in the Arctic. About an hour before landing, he left his seat and joined the makeshift minyan near the back of the plane, and wrapped his eighty-year-old tefillin as he greeted a new day.  
  
  



	5. Glossary and Explanatory Notes

**Glossary and explanatory notes:**

  * **zt”l** \- short for _zecher tzadik l’vracha_ , “the righteous person of blessed memory” - written after the name of a very righteous deceased person. Sometimes pronounced “zatzal,” sometimes read aloud as “zecher tzadik l’vracha.”
  * **_Baruch atah Adonai, mechayeh ha’meitim_**. - Blessed are You, Lord, who revives the dead. From the Amida (see below), part of a longer prayer said three times a day in Jewish prayer.
  * **Olam HaBa** \- The World to Come (as opposed to Olam HaZeh, This World), the term is Jewish texts for the heaven-like world that righteous people enter after death.
  * **_me’ayin l’t’chiyat ha’metim min ha’Torah_** \- “Whence is [the source] for resurrection of the dead in the Torah?” - a quote from the Talmud, in a passage discussing Jewish beliefs about afterlife and the prayer quoted above.
  * **_v’rabim m’y’sheinei admat afar yakitzu_** \- “and many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth will awaken” - quote from Daniel 12:2, appearing to foretell a resurrection of the dead and quoted in the Talmud as a proof-text for that idea
  * **there is no reward for the righteous or punishment for the wicked in this world, only in the world to come**. - another quote from the Talmud, reinforcing the concept of the World to Come (“Olam HaBa”) as a response to the problem of why good things happen to bad people and why bad things happen to good people.
  * **Matzeiva** \- literally “pillar” in Hebrew; used to refer to a tombstone or similar memorial for the dead.
  * **z”l** \- short for _zichrono l’vracha_ , “of blessed memory” or “may his memory be for a blessing,” typically written after the name of a deceased person. Usually read aloud as “zichrono l’vracha,” sometimes pronounced as “zal.”
  * **שלום מתן רוג'רז** \- Shalom Matan Rogers - written as Steve’s Hebrew name. Steve, though a common enough name in Jewish circles, has no direct Hebrew equivalent, so I got to play around with it. Shalom starts with the same letter, and I felt it was apropos for our weary super-soldier to have a name that means “Peace.” Matan is a Hebrew boys’ name that means “Gift,” so I felt it was a good equivalent to Grant. Rogers is transliterated (though see discussion of his last name below).
  * **ת.נ.צ.ב.ה.** \- short for _tehei nishmato tzrurah b’tzror ha’chayim_ , “May his soul be bound up in the bundle of life,” usually written on Jewish tombstones and occasionally in other contexts after the name of a deceased person.
  * **כ"ז תמוז ה' תרע"ח - ה' תש"ה** ~~a~~ \- 27 Tamuz, 5678 - 5705 - The Hebrew dates for Steve’s birthdate (yes, I looked up July 4, 1918 - note that the Hebrew calendar and the Gregorian calendar don’t match up, so 27 Tamuz is **not** the 4th of July every year; most years, Jewish!Steve would be celebrating his Hebrew and English birthdays on different days) and assumed year of death. Rather than research or guess a rough date for when he touched down in the Arctic, I decided that - probably like many people murdered in the Holocaust and soldiers who died fighting in WWII - whoever made his tombstone only put the year of death, since they didn’t have the information or resources to pinpoint the actual date of death.
  * **_May his soul be bound up in the bundle of life._** \- See above; Steve is reading and mentally translating this line from his tombstone.
  * **Chevra Kadisha** \- Aramaic, literally “Holy community” - used to refer to the group of people, required in every shul/synagogue/Jewish community, who voluntarily see to the community’s dead. Typically this entails cleaning, dressing, and burying the body, which would not have been necessary in Steve’s case, as no body was (obviously) recovered; however, because he had no living relatives at the time of his reported death, it would also have fallen to them to take care of his tombstone and any prayers of memorial/mourning.
  * **_im ein ani li, mi li?_** \- “If I am not for myself, who is for me?” - first third of a famous quote from Hillel (a first-century Jewish leader foundational in forming Judaism as we know it), found in the Mishna (text that is the precursor to the Talmud).
  * **Avraham Erskine \- using the Hebrew pronunciation of Abraham Erskine’s first name to emphasize the fact that it is a Jewish name, and this commonality would not be lost on Jewish!Steve**
  * **_im ani l’atzmi, mah ani?_** \- “If I am [only] for myself, what am I?” - second third of the famous quote from Hillel.
  * **_im lo achshav, eimatai?_** \- “If not now, when?” - final third of the famous Hillel quote.
  * **Kipa \- small circular cloth head covering that observant Jewish men wear, often worn at all times. Can be worn in addition to, _or substituted by_ , another head covering such as a hat or helmet.**
  * **words of Torah rising unbidden to his lips** \- this alludes to the precept, which Jewish children are taught from a young age, that one should say the first line of the Shma (an important prayer said twice daily and taken from the Torah, affirming one’s faith in a singular God and one’s connection to Jewish peoplehood) at the moment of one’s death. Although I also like to imagine that other Torah quotes would have been rising in Steve’s mind at the time, as well.
  * **Tefillin** \- A Jewish ritual item, used by Jewish men over the age of thirteen. Tefillin is a plural noun, and they are often also referred to as a “set” or a “pair” of tefillin. It consists of two pieces, each with a black box of hardened leather containing pieces of parchment with specific passages from the Torah written on them, and black leather straps attached to the outside of the box. One piece is wrapped around the left arm, with the box positioned on the upper arm; the other piece loops around the head, with the box positioned on the forehead and the straps dangling down at the back of the neck. They are “wrapped” (the term commonly used for donning Tefillin) at the start of the morning prayers on a regular day, with certain blessings and verses said as one puts them on, and unwrapped at the end of the morning prayers. Tefillin are considered holy, and one is supposed to keep one’s thoughts pure and focused on prayer while wearing them (if a person needs to duck out during prayer to go to the bathroom, they must remove the Tefillin and put them back on when they return). They should also be handled respectfully, and with care, due to their holy status. Because of the requirements in making Tefillin (the leather parts must be made from the hide of a kosher animal, and the passages must be hand-written by a trained scribe, in special ink, on parchment made from the skin of a kosher animal), Tefillin are fairly expensive. 
  * **Bar Mitzvah** \- Aramaic, literally “a son of the commandments.” Refers to a Jewish boy’s 13th birthday (or the celebration of that birthday), at which point he becomes responsible for his own fulfilment of all the relevant commandments in Judaism. This is the age when an observant boy would receive his first set of Tefillin.
  * **Brachot** \- literally, “blessings.” Used here (and commonly) to refer to Birkot HaShachar, “The Morning Blessings,” a set of blessings said at the beginning of morning prayers, and which can be said while getting dressed.
  * **Amida** \- literally, “standing.” Name for an important prayer said in every Jewish prayer service (usually three times a day), so called because it is said while standing, with the feet together in one spot. (Also known as Shemonah Esrei, “Eighteen,” for the eighteen-or-so blessings that make up the core version of this prayer.)
  * **Roiskies** \- I took some liberties here, because Rogers is not a common Jewish name. There is, however, a very historical trend of Jews with very Jewish-sounding names changing their names to very non-Jewish names, with a common first letter or sound, upon immigrating to the US, which is what I have to assume happened in the case of Jewish!Steve’s parents. Roskies / Roskes / Rosskies is a common enough Jewish name, and one with a close enough sound that Joseph might reasonably have changed his name from that to Rogers. Unfortunately, I have not been able to source the meaning of that name (if any Roskies know what their name means and want to help me out, I would welcome that). I added the i to make it the variant Roiskies because of my best guess as to the name’s origins - that the first part comes from the Yiddish _rois_ , meaning pink or rose (see also: common Jewish names with that root such as Rosen, Rosenberg, and Rosenstein).
  * **_of blessed memory_** \- see z”l above; Steve is remembering and mentally translating that text from his tombstone
  * **Chillul Hashem** \- literally “Desecration of the Name [of God],” used to refer to any action that, when performed by a Jewish person, would make the Jewish God, Judaism, and/or the Jewish People as a whole look bad. Acts of Chillul Hashem are forbidden in Judaism.
  * **the Kotel** \- literally “the Wall,” short for Kotel HaMa’aravi, the Western Wall (the still-standing western retaining wall around the area of the Jewish Temple that formerly stood on the Temple Mount).
  * **a Captain America kipa \- see above about what a kipa is. Captain America kipot (plural of kipa) do exist.**
  * **Yad VaShem** \- the Holocaust Memorial museum in Israel (its name is taken from a line in Isaiah, promising a lasting memorial for all the righteous who die without children to remember them; roughly, “yad vashem” means “a monument and a name”)
  * **Righteous Among the Nations** \- a list maintained by Yad VaShem, of all the non-Jews who saved Jewish lives during the Holocaust. They give recognition to the honorees on the list (or their descendants) when new names come to light.
  * **ג’יימס “בקי” ביוחנן ברנס** \- Hebrew transliteration of James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes
  * **Shuk** \- market, here referring to the popular large open market in Jerusalem.
  * **Minyan** \- literally quorum, referring to a group of 10 or more Jewish men for prayer, as many prayers are only said (in Orthodox circles) when a minimum quorum of 10 men are gathered together. Can also refer to the prayer service taking place when this quorum is gathered. On flights between Israel and North America in either direction, there are usually enough Orthodox Jewish men for a makeshift minyan to gather (preferably somewhere unobtrusive) for morning and/or evening prayers at the beginning/end of the flight (depending on the times of takeoff and landing at the origin and destination locations, respectively).




End file.
